Chapter 3

The Golden Mushroom

For years Weamar had wandered these forests. He knew them and they knew him. Thus, the lengthening shadows cast by the giant trees held no fear for the experienced woodsman. For any who wander these ancient groves for long knows, it is not the shadows that you should fear but rather that which lurks within them.

The sun hung low in the sky and dusk was approaching swiftly. It had been a long day and Weamar’s horse needed water. Upon rounding a bend in the trail he came across a clearing. A small brook was flowing peacefully along one side. Weamar glanced around the clearing, looking for anything in the shadows but he saw nothing that caught his eye. Everything seemed peaceful. Everything seemed normal. Birds sang and leaves rustled gently in the breeze. Weamar nudged his horse forward towards the stream, then he dismounted and stood on the bank. He listened to his horse, ironically named Dry, lapping up the water and he remembered the age old joke.

“I can’t make him drink, but I can make him thirsty”, he thought to himself.

Weamar was at home in the forest, and he enjoyed every moment that he could spend there. Weamar took a deep breath and tasted the fresh air. It was then that he saw something out of place. On the stream's opposite bank he could see paw prints in the mud, big ones. Weamar crossed the stream and took a closer look. They were wolf tracks. It appeared that the animal had approached from the woods to the north and left in the same direction. The tracks were recent and Weamar knew that the wolf that made them was very big. In other places this would be unusual but in Verbrek wolves were known to get as big as men.

Weamar crossed the stream, followed by his horse and his faithful hound Cujia. Cujia could smell the wolf’s scent and cautiously walked behind her master. Weamar followed the tracks into the woods a short distance and then saw that they were joined by many more. A whole pack must have passed through rather recently. Weamar counted the tracks and made out about twenty sets. Weamar hoped that they wouldn’t come back.
 

Lynn’s wanderings had lead her to the town of Sturben in the land of Borca near its northern border with neighboring Falkovnia. The names meant something to the people who lived there, but not to Lynn. Every town seemed to be the same as the last. The people were drab and downtrodden. The old buildings were splashed with mud and other less pleasant things due to the recent rains. It was another dreary little town along her journey. The only point of mirth seemed to come from an inn.

Lynn felt hungry. She decided to go in and get a meal. Today was a good day. Lynn’s worries and troubles were as far away from her as they had been in weeks. She wondered if it was a sign of more good days to come. As she pushed open the inn's door, it creaked loudly on its old hinges. Everyone inside stopped what they were doing and turned to look at her. Lynn quickly looked away from their stares. Eye contact was something that she avoided at all costs. She felt an urge to leave but fought it off, telling herself that she could handle it. She pulled the hood of her robe down over her eyes and sat down at a nearby table. She felt a wave of relief as everyone returned to their meals, drinks, and conversations. Some towns didn’t like strangers, and they let you know it. Lynn was glad that this town wasn’t one of those.

A middle aged gentleman in a dirty apron approached her, "Welcome to the Golden Mushroom sir. My name Jake is, what can I be gettin for you tonight?"

Lynn was used to being called ‘sir’. It was the clothes that she wore. No one could tell if she was a man or a woman. She looked like no one special and that was how she liked it.

Lynn was feeling good, and it made her a little adventurous. "What's your specialty?", she asked warmly.

Surprised at hearing a woman’s voice from the hooded patron the man replied. "Oh! My apologies ma'am. Tonight's special is Spiced Potatoes."

Then he leaned towards Lynn just a little, "And don't be mindin' the regulars here. They're just a bit wary of new folks is all."

"I'll have your spiced potatoes.", Lynn said politely.

"Comin right up, Ma'am. Anythin to drink?"

"A glass of rain water."

"Certainly, Ma'am. One of my girls'll have your order out shortly."

Out of all the patrons, one fellow's voice was unusually loud and cut through the chatter. A group of men at the bar were gathered around him. Lynn listened closely, but she didn't look up to see who it was.

"...I tell ya you just couldn't phase this fella. Nuthin ever bothered 'im. One time a guy insulted his mother. Nothin, just ignored him. Another time we was fightin this huge beast. It had me an' Serena, Ezra rest her dear soul, cornered in a musty ol' crypt. Ethan comes up behind the thing and snaps it's neck like twig with his a flick of his wrist. He took Serena's hand and without sayin a blessed thing walked out."

"Oh, you won't believe this one. We was at this tavern waitin on Aselid while he went to find some more of his stinkin weeds and this girl saunters up to Ethan, tits like the Balinoks just about fallin outta her bodice and an ass that'd make a dead man get wood. Right there in the middle of the bar she offers to shine his knob! Ya know what he says? He says 'No thankyou' and goes right back to drinkin. I tell ya, I just about fell outta my chair."

The man's audience responded with hearty laughter and a couple mutters of 'bullshit'.

The fellow glared at them and said "William Markson does not tell tall tales. He does not stretch the truth, ya got that?"

He paused a bit but he couldn't hold out as a grin broke across his face.

"Ok, maybe just a little."

A young barmaid stopped along side Lynn’s table and set a wooden plate before her. The potatoes were hot and they smelled absolutely wonderful.

"Here are your potatoes and your water, ma'am. Can I get you anything else?"

"I'm fine". Lynn thanked her and began eating.

The barmaid cheerfully replied "Alright, if you need anything just wave and we'll be right over."

Lynn took a sip from the glass. Rain water had a special taste. It reminded her of nature. It made her feel like a part of everything. That was something she didn’t feel very often. She took a few more sips and felt refreshed.

William continued his stories, "Anyway, Ethan. Cold sunnofabitch but he never let us down when we needed it. I haven't seen him in years myself. Ever since Serena died he was even less cheerful than usual. He and Aselid went off somewhere 'looking for a cure.' A cure for what I don't  know. Hope they're doin well."

The word "cure" grabbed Lynn's attention. She listened closer.

William drained the remains of his beer noisily and called out for another round. Lynn took another bite of the spicy potatoes and savored the flavor. Everyone around Williams was thinking the same thing. Finally someone said it.

"So this Serena, what happened to her?"

William was silent for a long moment. An uncomfortable silence spread through the entire room. Then William broke it.

There was a distant quality to William’s voice as he answered. "The four of us were in Barovia. Aselid had business in Nova Vaasa and that was the shortest route.”

Suddenly William became very angry. His voice rose to a level where everyone in the room could hear him. “That damn bastard Strahd. He's off his rocker. He though Serena was some long lost love of his. We... I..."

Then the garrulous man fell silent, and this time he didn't continue. After a brief pause he set down his half-empty glass and stood up. His anger had faded and he made a hasty apology. "Well, lads. Sorry about the dour turn. I think I'll be headin home for the night. Be safe."

William pulled his cloak about his shoulders and left his speechless companions.
 

Weamar noticed something very odd about the tracks. The didn't stay together. They broke off in all directions, except for the way that he had come. Weamar didn’t want to follow any further. It was getting late and he had to make camp. The sun was slipping lower and lower on the horizon. When he returned to the clearing, it hung just above the trees in the west. He gathered some wood and made a fire. Just as it began to burn, Cujia let out a low growl. Her ears flattened and she looked intently into the rapidly darkening forest. Dry began to shift around uncomfortably. Weamar looked around the clearing, but couldn’t see anything beyond the first row of trees. Night had fallen quickly, as it tended to in the summer, and the thick forest obscured his vision.

Cujia began circling the perimeter of the clearing, still growling at an unseen foe. Weamar grabbed his bow, and keep it near him as he tended the fire. After a few minutes Cujia seemed content that whatever was out there had moved off. She came over to Weamar and sat down with a huff. Dry was calmer now as well. Still wary, Weamar made dinner. By the time he was finished, the sun's light had finally extinguished. The sky was clear and filled with stars. The dancing of the flames caused shadows to flit and jump all about the edge of the clearing. Off in the distance an owl's hooting could be heard. Weamar began to relax.

Suddenly there was a loud cracking sound as a branch fell from it's tree. Weamar shot a glance in that direction and grabbed his bow again. On one of the branches was perched a large owl, nearly two feet tall. Weamar breathed a sigh of relief and admonished himself for being so jumpy. The owl stared at him and cocked it's head to the side. Weamar tried to relax, but the owl never took it's eyes off of him. Weamar felt a vague, and maybe paranoid, unease under the owl's scrutiny. He wondered if the owl was a wizard’s familiar. That wasn’t unheard of. Maybe the owl belonged to an old druid who he’d encountered in these woods. Maybe it belonged to a wizard who wanted to keep an eye on him. Maybe it was just an owl.

Weamar stayed awake for another hour. All seemed peaceful and quiet. He lay down and went to sleep.
 

When Lynn finished eating she motioned to the barmaid.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"It was delicious. My compliments to the chef."

The barmaid smiled, "I’ll certainly tell him." She picked up the plate. "Would you like anything else to drink?"

"No", Lynn paused, then asked, "Do you have any entertainment here?"

The barmaid chuckled, "Unless you count William's stories, then no. Not tonight anyway, we had a minstrel here last week. Bard from Kartakass no less! But he moved on a few days ago."

"I'm a singer. I'd like to do a show here.", Lynn proposed.

 "Oh that would be wonderful! I'll go get Jake."

A few moments later the older man who had taken her order came over. "So you'd like to sing for us? We can't offer much in the way of payment, Sir Dilisnya recently came by collecting his 'taxes' so we're short on coin."

"I need a room and a few meals. For that I'll sing and you can pay me what you feel is fair.", Lynn was used to singing for her room and meals. There wasn’t much money to be made in small towns. But she liked working that way. It made her feel like she was part of the community. It made her feel like she belonged.

"Wonderful." The man turned to the barmaid, "Go see that a room is ready for the lady."

Then he looked back at Lynn, "What's your name ma'am?"

"Lynn", Lynn pulled back her hood so that Jake could see her face. She smiled politely, but she kept her eyes from looking at his.

Jake was taken aback by Lynn’s stunning beauty and he stammered for a moment. "I. We. I mean..." He ran a sweaty palm over his receding hair and then gathered his thoughts, "Heh, I'll set you up a place near the hearth. Let me know when you're ready."

"I just need a place to change and put my things."

“I’ll have Gillian show you to your room.”

Upstairs Gillian opened one of the doors and motioned Lynn in. It was a fine room, one of the better rooms in the inn. A basin of water with folded cloths sat on a small table next to the freshly made bed. Lynn thanked Gillian and prepared for her show. She changed out of her old clothes and washed up. Then she put on her white evening gown. It was long and elegant and made her look angelic. In a few more minutes her transformation was complete. She brushed her hair, put on her makeup, and dabbed on a little perfume. No one would think that the vision of beauty soon to sing had been the roughly clothed stranger who'd entered the inn an hour before.
 

While Weamar slept, troubling dreams came to him. In the first he saw the owl silhouetted against a full moon. Then the moon grew into a bright and sickly yellow/green. A vertical black slit formed across it, transforming the disc into an eye. Then the image faded.

Weamar then saw two women, one was dressed in old and tattered robes with her hood pulled up. The other was a girl of not more than sixteen with angled features, long black hair and dark eyes, contrasting her unusually pale skin. She wore a white gown and a pendant. The pendant bore the mark of Ezra, an alabaster shield with a silver longsword.

The image shifted again. He saw the two women again, aided by a behemoth of a man. They battled indistinct enemies. It did not go well. Weamar awoke with the sound of the girl's screams ringing in his ears.

Unsettled by the dream Weamar looked around nervously. The owl was gone. Everything was absolutely quiet. Weamar stoked the fire and sat up for a while, waiting for his nerves to settle down. They didn’t.

Suddenly, Cujia sat up and flattened her ears once again. Then she leaped up, growling fiercely towards the area across the stream where Weamar had found the gathering of wolf tracks. An uneasiness grew in the pit of his stomach. Other than Cujia and the fire, the sounds of the forest had ceased. No wind blew. It was as though the forest had been transformed into a living portrait, a single instant frozen in time. The trees stood in mute witness, as though those age old sentinels were holding their breath awaiting the outcome of some event of great import.

Cujia barked and Dry was becoming quite agitated. Weamar stared intently into the darkness. He could see them now, dark forms moving swiftly amongst the trees, low to the ground, just beyond the firelight. He saw eyes peering at him from the forest, many sets of hateful yellow eyes. Glancing about he realized that he’d been surrounded.

Then another set of eyes appeared, higher than the rest, about the height of a very tall man. From it an inhuman, bestial, voice called out. "You are quite a long way from your fellow sheep, human. It is very kind of you to have traveled so far, simply to provide us with dinner."

"Simply? That remains to be seen". Weamar always gave of an air of confidence. It was far better than trembling in fear.

A huge form emerged from the trees. Silver furred and razor clawed, it was a hideous blending of wolf and man. Its eyes were filled with malice and hunger.

“Uh-oh”, Weamar though to himself.

"Ah, you have spirit. It so much more fun when the prey fights back. Easy kills are hardly worth the effort.”

Cujia positioned herself between Weamar and the creature. She snarled at the thing and barked fiercely.

Weamar drew back his bow and fired at the monster. The arrow rushed towards the arrogant beast but almost faster than Weamar’s eye could track it swiped a clawed hand through the air. The arrow fell to pieces and fell harmlessly to the ground. The creature's lips pull back in what Weamar imagined to be a smirk, revealing a lethal set of teeth.

Weamar dropped his bow and drew his sword. He moved closer to the fire. Seeing a large branch in the fire he reached down and grabbed it. He pointed the burning end towards the man-wolf.

"My but you do have guts. I will enjoy feeding them to our young. Now, I'm feeling a bit sporting tonight, manling. I will give you till the count of thirty before we kill you. You could simply stay here." It shook its head. "No fun at all. Or you can run. Personally, I'd prefer the latter. It always makes the meat taste so much sweeter."

The wolf-thing began counting. "One....Two...."

Weamar didn’t waste any time. He called Cujia, grabbed his bow and jumped into his saddle. Back at the point where he had first entered the clearing the eyes had parted, leaving a clear path.

"Three...Four...Five..."

Dry needed no prompting and in an instant they were running as fast they could through woods at night. Weamar could still hear the thing's amused counting as he rode away. The way was dark but the moon and stars shined above, and the trees above the path were sparse. Fear pushed them onward. Thirty seconds later a chorus of howls sounded from behind him punctuated by a single deafening roar which seemed to have come from the deepest pits of hell. Dry ran all the faster. The forest seemed to go on forever and every moment Weamar knew that the wolves were gaining ground.

A fog began to coalesce. Weamar headed into the fog, hoping to lose the wolves in it. Looking back he saw a large wolf behind him, still gaining. The mist grew thicker and seemed to deaden everything. All sound and light were muted. The haze became so thick that Weamar couldn't see past the head of his horse.

Weamar stopped and dismounted, sending Dry on her way. He looked around and noticed that he was no longer in the woods. The ground had become a well worn road. Weamar then turned his attention to the wolf closing in on him. He drew his sword and prepared to strike. The fog relented and swiftly faded. Out of what remained of the bank the large wolf came charging. Weamar swung his sword at it, but the wolf was moving too fast. Weamar’s sword only clipped a few hairs from the wolf’s tail. The beast turned about and leaped at him, snarling. Its maw was open and ready to tear Weamar to tiny bits. It never got the chance. With all the force he could muster Weamar side stepped the wolf and brought his blade down across the animal's neck. Like a heated iron passing through snow, his sword moved through the wolf's flesh, separating its head from its body.

Weamar didn’t wait around. After killing the wolf he started off up the road after his horse and his dog. The mists had cleared completely. There was no sign of the forest anywhere, only open plains. Weamar looked back and saw three smaller wolves approach the remains of their fallen pack mate. The wolves did not give chase. Three mournful howls echoed across the fields. Soon he caught up to Dry and Cujia. He looked around. In Verbrek he always knew where he was. Now he was lost. Where was he?
 

Lynn stepped out of her room and walked towards the hearth. Her long white robe with silver flowed delicately behind her. When all eyes had turned towards her she began to sing. The room fell silent, many a jaw fell to the floor. Lynn's voice was as beautiful as she was. She sang a sad song of unrequited love. It was a song about a young woman who longed for the return of a man whom she loved deeply. He had gone off to war, perhaps never to return. Lynn's eyes looked away from the crowd as she poured out her heart. Gillian and her fellow barmaids sighed and became teary eyed at the song. The men in the crowd sat mesmerized.

When it was over the crowd applauded warmly. Lynn smiled and sang another song. It was a dark and scary song about a young man lost in the woods who was getting chased by wolves. Some in the crowd shivered, but all of them enjoyed the tale. The last song Lynn sang was a happy drinking song. It had a chorus that she tried to get everyone to sing along with. The crowd obliged and soon everyone was singing loudly. Jake was badly out of tune but no one seemed to care. Lynn sang as many verses as she knew. Everyone was having a great time and so was Lynn. She didn’t want it to end.
 

Weamar continued along the road away from the wolves.  Before long he came across a old signpost. An arrow pointed north. In Mordentish (Weamar’s native language) it read 'Sturben'. Weamar had heard enough from the river traders to know that Sturben was a moderate size town in the land of Borca. How he managed to travel so many miles from the center of Verbrek, he had no idea. It had to be magic.

Entering the town he saw lights coming from one building, an inn called the Golden Mushroom. The most beautiful voice he’d ever heard flowed from inside. Around to the side, a stable boy nodded off against the wall. Weamar approached the stable boy, dismounting.

"Hello, are you awake?"

The boy woke with a start.

"Oh, you are, good.”

"Oh, sorry. Can I help you mister?"

"Stabling for my horse would be good..., and my dog..."

"Oh, us sure..." He looked at Cujia. "It doesn't bite does it?"

"No, mostly.", Weamar advised. "She won't bite you if you treat her well"

"Uh... alright. It's two hemlock a day, you can pay with your meal or room inside."

"Thanks."

The boy nodded and led Dry into the stables

Weamar wandered to the inn. Upon entering he saw an amazingly beautiful woman in a white gown near the hearth singing a happy drinking tune. The whole place was singing along. No one even noticed him enter. Weamar wandered up to the bar to get a drink, but the bartender was happily singing along and didn’t notice him either. Lynn was starting to get tired, so she went for the big finish. As the song came to a close, Jake was the only one left singing as he held the note out a little too long.

Lynn went to the bar to get another glass of rain water. When the laughter died, Jake finally noticed Weamar and went back about his duties. His attention turned to Lynn, "More water lass? That was a wonderful show. We haven't had that much fun 'round here in years". Lynn smiled.

"Thanks. I really enjoyed singing for you.", Lynn sipped from the glass but didn't make eye contact.

Turning to Weamar, Jake rolled out the red carpet, "Welcome to the Golden Mushroom, sir. What'll ya have?"

"An ale, and a room if you have one."

"Yes, we have open rooms. I'll have your drink right up."

"I also have a horse and dog in your stables..."

"Not a problem sir, they'll receive the finest care we can give."

Jake returned with his drink "Will there be anything else, sir?

"Maybe another ale in a while, but what do I owe you?

"Since you'll be stayin the night, you can settle up in the mornin. Care for your animals and the room is 7 hemlock, the drinks are 3 foxglove each."

"Righto".

Gillian came over and touched Lynn's arm, "Those songs were beautiful, where did you learn to sing like that?"

Lynn closed her eyes briefly and pulled her arm away gently. A desire to kiss and caress the young woman arose within her, then passed quickly. Lynn smiled and said, "Thanks. I had a good teacher."

"Oh, I wish I could sing like that. Oh, well. Guess I'll have to settle for serving drinks.”

"Practice. That's what my teacher always told me. Maybe one day you will sing like me.”

”Well, my shift is over. Goodnight."
“Goodnight, Gillian."

Weamar drank his ale, pleased to be alive, but subdued by how close it had been. He looked over at the woman beside him. She was beautiful. And there was something familiar about her too, but he couldn't quite place it.

Lynn noticed the man next to her taking a good look at her face and body. She took a deep breath and smelled blood and perspiration. She sensed that he had been in a fight and that he’d won. Perhaps he would like to be her sparring partner sometime. Lynn was still feeling good, and her shyness didn’t stop her from trying to find out, "Are you good with a sword?"

"I'm fairly able, I suppose.", Weamar said modestly, "Your voice was a welcome sound this night."

"Thanks. I love to sing", Lynn smiled. She turned her head towards him, but her eyes looked elsewhere, "I'm good with a sword too. Maybe tomorrow we can spar."

Weamar was taken aback. Was she coming onto him? He wondered, but there was no hint of suggestiveness in her voice. He let her down gently, "I'm afraid I have other plans. I have a long journey home.”

"Where's home?", Lynn asked.

“Verbrek.”

Lynn had heard of Verbrek. Lots of wood, lots of wolves, and far to the south west of where she was.

"You're a long way from home. What brings you here?"

"I'm not really sure...”

Lynn let out a little laugh.

"... I encountered a mist when riding through some woods, and wound up on a road south of here."

"Fate has brought you here."

"Perhaps."

It had been a long time since Lynn had had a sparring partner. She didn’t want to see the man leave so soon. "If you leave, you'll miss my singing tomorrow evening.”

"Though that pains me, I must return home. I have things to do."

"Oh, but they can wait one day.", Lynn coaxed.

"I'm not so sure."

The peaceful mood of the bar was broken as James, the stable boy, burst through the door. "Help! It's Gillian! She's been attacked! She needs help now!”

Weamar leaped into action. He ran to the door, "Where?"

James gasped, "This way”, he exclaimed as he ran out into the street. Weamar saw that James was cut and bruised. He quickened his pace and soon caught up with the stable boy. Several men in the bar followed behind them and Lynn tagged along. She thought about getting her sword, but decided that it couldn’t wait.

James led the group through the town. In the middle of the road lay the young barmaid, unconscious. Her clothing was torn, and she was bleeding. Cujia lay near her, licking her hand.

Weamar hurried over, "What happened?"

James answered, "I was watering the horses when I heard a scream. I grabbed a torch and ran out to see what was the matter and Gillian was running towards me. There were three wolves chasing her! Your dog followed me, and we managed to scare them off."

"She needs a doctor.", Lynn said, her voice full of concern.

Weamar looked Gillian over. There was a vicious bite mark on her left side, between her hip and her rib cage. It was bleeding readily. And there were some smaller marks where the wolves had nipped at her legs as she ran.

"Let's take her to the inn.", Lynn turned to James, "Can you get the town doctor?"

Jake interjected, "The town's doctor is out at one of the farmsteads delivering a baby, he won't be back for days."

Lynn closed her eyes. The wonderful day was going wrong. "Please, can anyone help her?"

Several men from the group gathered around Gillian and carefully picked her up. Quickly they carried her to the inn. Once inside Weamar began giving orders, "Jake, some sheets, and scissors..."

Jake brought everything Weamar asked for. He looked terribly worried. Gillian was like a daughter to him. If she were to die it would break his heart. Lynn sat far away from the commotion with her head down. She couldn’t stand the sight of blood. She hoped that Gillian could pull through. Deep inside her she felt the bad feelings starting to grow. She fought them.

Weamar set about cutting some of the sheets into strips to use as bandages, and some as wadding for the large wound. The blood was really flowing, and the bandages became soaked in short order. Finally he managed to stop the bleeding and secure the wound. Gillian started to come around. She blinked and winced in pain. As she remembered what had happened she sobbed lightly.

Weamar tunred to Jake, "A mug of fresh water, if you please". He made soothing noises to put Gillian at ease.

"Of course." Jake rushed off and quickly returned with the water. He twisted his hands anxiously in his apron.

Weamar held the mug for Gillian, quietly advising, "small sips".

Gillian coughed but managed to swallow some of the water. Across the room Lynn sat deep in thought. She wondered why bad things always seemed to happen to good people. Gillian was such a sweet young woman. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her.

“If only I could have done something to stop it.”, Lynn thought to herself. Her mind began to think about all of the things that she could have done. Slowly, she began to feel guilty for doing nothing.

Weamar turned to the crowd gathered around him, "Where does Gillian live, and does she live alone?"

"Yes, alone and not far from here.”, answered Jake, “In The Lady's name, we've never had animal attacks like this before."

"Aye, well we'll get to those in a moment. She's not fit to be out of bed for a week at the moment, and needs someone to keep an eye on that wound and see to her needs...", Weamar stood up and wiped his hands on a towel. "... as I'm not from here, could you recommend someone likely to be able to give her the care she'll need?"

Jake scratched his head, then his eyes lit up. "The temple. All the anchorites were called back to Levkarest but the lay brothers may be able to help."

"Good. If someone would go ahead and rouse the brothers, and a couple of others give me a hand carrying this table.", Weamar grasped a nearby table as did a few other of the men, "Jake, may we borrow some blankets to protect her from the night's air?"

Jake sent James off to the temple and quickly offered more blankets, "Aye, anything. She's gonna be alright, isn't she?"

"With luck and good care, hopefully."

A few minutes passed and James came rushing back with an elderly gentleman in a plain brown robe in tow huffing and puffing.

"Oh, Gillian!." The old man knelt next to the girl, clasping her hand and stroking her forehead.

Gillian suddenly spoke up, "It was terrible, they came from nowhere... and... and..."

"Can you help, Brother Lucius?", Jake said, full of concern.

“Yes...”, Lucius' brow was drawn as he examined the girl's wounds. "Who bound these wounds? This is masterful."

"Erm, I did.", Weamar reluctantly acknowledged, then added with a frown, "Unfortunately, I'm probably part of the reason for the attack on her as well."

Lucius looked him up and down and raised and eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I was running from wolves in Verbrek, and entered a mist that somehow brought me here. Some wolves followed me.”, Weamar rubbed his hands together, “I didn't expect them to come so close to the town."

"The Mists. The Mists brought you here?" Lucius seemed incredibly worried by Weamar’s words.

"Aye."